Titania's Story
by IndigoDiamond
Summary: So, I was reading Sirensong a while back, and what bothered me was that there was no Oberon! You can't have a faerie story without Oberon! So that got me thinking. What if there were a reason for his absence? And what if his wife, Titania, had something to do with it? So for my language arts book project, I wrote a biography about Titania, and what happened to her husband.
1. Chapter 1

_So, I was reading **Sirensong** a while back, and what bothered me was that there was no Oberon! You can't have a faerie story without Oberon! So that got me thinking. What if there were a reason for his absence? And what if his wife, Titania, had something to do with it? So for my language arts book project, I wrote a biography about Titania - and about the events that led to her husband's death. I found this on my flash drive, and I opened it up, and I was like, "Hey - this isn't bad! I should post it on FanFiction! So here it is - Titania's story. Also my first story ever on FanFiction . . . so hope you guys enjoy! (Also - I can't indent! What's up with that?!) Please review - I want to hear your input!_

I was born in a small village on the south side of Tír na nÓg. My family was staunch Seelie, and it was expected that I too affiliate myself with the Bright Court. I personally had no objection. To me, the Seelie had always been my people; and turning to the Dark Court was unthinkable. So when I was sixteen and old enough to affiliate myself with a court, I followed in the footsteps of my ancestors and officially became Seelie Sidhe.

I was only a child, but I had dreams and hopes all the same. I had ambitions to become great, to become worshiped and revered. Even at sixteen, I had had my eyes set far above my station as a lowly village Sidhe. I was determined to travel to the royal palace of the Seelie one day and see it with my own eyes, no matter how unlikely the prospect. I had dreams, and I would not be dissuaded from them. Of course, I had no idea of the power I would one day wield on the Seelie Throne. I only wished to be able to see the throne, not to sit on it. That particular goal did not enter my mind until much, much later. No, at sixteen my biggest desire was to be one of the Queen's ladies – a member of the royal Court, and an extremely important person, but nowhere near the level of the Queen herself. Still, I was common Sidhe, barely any more important than the ogres and trolls; I had not a drop of noble blood in my veins, and even the position of lady-in-waiting to the Seelie Queen was deemed utterly unreachable by my peers. My cousins, all of whom were far older and more experienced than I, laughed in my face.

"Little Titania, lady to the Queen? Perhaps when the sun falls from the sky!" they mocked. "Perhaps in your dreams, cousin!" I knew that privately, my parents felt the same way, but they were kinder in their efforts to dissuade me from my ambitions. They did not laugh and jeer as my cousins did; instead, they sat down with me around the old oak table in our house made of dirt and attempted to reason with me. They did so all throughout my first sixteen years, but it was only after I reached adulthood and announced my affiliation did they truly become serious. I still remember the day after my sixteenth birthday, when my mother took my hands in hers at the old oak table and, looking deep into my eyes, told me that my dreams would never come to fruition.

"Titania," she said, "you are an adult now and must act as such. You must realize that not everything you want is within your grasp. You are not noble born. You are our daughter, and your father and I are as common as the dirt of this house. We allowed your dreaming when you were but a little girl, but you are old enough to know better now. You will never reach the Queen's palace. You will never even make it past the silver gates."

I shook my head violently and refused to listen. "Mother," I cried, "there is nothing you can do to stop me. I _will_ sit in that palace one day, no matter what any of you think. Someday, I will be great, and you will all be sorry!"

I pulled away from her grasp and ran out into the village. I immediately regretted my impetuous words, but there was nothing I could do now to take them back. And did I really want to take them back? I had, after all, meant every word. I had every intention of joining the ranks of the Queen's ladies, and I would not let anything stop me.

It was then that I made the rashest decision of them all. Running to the village inn, I threw open the stable doors and leapt upon my favorite horse, a handsome white stallion named Hellebore.

"Run, boy!" I hissed into his wild white mane. "Go as fast as you can!"

And with that, we were off.

I will say at this moment that looking back, I regret my decision more than anyone could ever know. That is not to say that I would give up anything that happened after Hellebore took me away; however, I would do anything to be able to ease my parents' undoubted pain. I have multitudes of children and grandchildren of my own now, and I know that the anguish my mother and father must have gone through at the news of my disappearance must have been terrible. There is nothing like losing a child, and I do wish I had known that at sixteen.

But while I was on Hellebore's back and the two of us were galloping towards a new life, I thought of nothing but freedom. This was my chance – my opportunity to prove that I really could do anything. My opportunity to prove that being born into a certain caste meant nothing towards one's future. As I rode away, I felt nothing but fierce joy and more than a little defiance.

It took me until sundown to realize that I was hopelessly lost. In the heat of the moment, I had completely abandoned any half-formed plans I may have had before then, and now I had nowhere to go. I was sensible enough to realize that I would be thrown out on my ear if I attempted to enter the Queen's palace, not that I even knew where it was; but with that being said, where else was I to stay? I had never been further than a few miles from my village before, and that was only to pick herbs to bring back. I knew of no inn or tavern in the surrounding area that I could go to. I knew no one outside of our village that would help me. And so I slid off of my horse's back and leaned against a tree in despair.

What happened next I can only attribute to marvelous luck, for at that very moment I heard the distinct neighing of a horse. Next to me, Hellebore's ears pricked up, and I jumped away from my resting place. Another horse! That surely meant a rider, someone who I could ask for help. Sure enough, a figure astride a black steed became visible as he or she trotted towards us. When they were but a few yards away, I took them in clearly. The rider was a tall Sidhe, a man, with long dark hair and dark eyes to match. He was dressed in fine clothes that clearly marked him as of noble descent, for they were of expensive cloth and dyed a deep red hue that would have cost my family our entire meager fortune. The rider's horse was a proud-looking sable mare with the bluest eyes I had ever seen, and she was obviously of extraordinarily fine breeding as well.

I stared for what seemed like eons until the rider raised a single eyebrow. Finally noticing his amused gaze, I felt myself flush a pale red.

"And who might you be?" he inquired.

I swallowed, but forced myself into a deep curtsy. Averting my eyes, I whispered, "Titania, milord. My name is Titania."

I could sense his smile. "A name worthy of a queen. And where might you be going today, Titania?"

I felt myself flush a deeper scarlet. Finally meeting his eyes, I admitted, "I don't know, milord."

"Well, we can't have that, now can we? Come, Titania. You shall ride as my companion." I could only stare, bewildered. His brow arched ever higher. "I don't bite, Titania," he said. He appeared to enjoy saying my name. "Come with me. You said yourself you don't know your way."

Still stunned, all I could do was nod as I forced my limbs to move and climbed back upon Hellebore. The rider urged his own horse, whom he introduced as Phaedra, into a gentle trot, and I followed. He glanced back over his shoulder. "By the way," he called, "my name is Oberon."


	2. Chapter 2

_Oberon_. All of Faerie would one day come to know that name very well, just as it would one day know mine. Even then, he was powerful, although nowhere near as powerful as he and I would someday be. But yes. That was how I first met Oberon. We traveled together for many days, stopping in various inns along the way that he apparently frequented quite often. I never once asked where we were heading. Looking back now, I think perhaps it was because I was afraid that Oberon would only want me as a traveling companion so long as I was utterly ignorant of what was happening. For what if he was in the midst of doing something illegal, or even treasonous? If that was the case, I would rather not know.

After three solid weeks of travel on horseback, however, I finally got a sense of direction. It seemed as if we had been heading north this entire time . . . and only one thing was all the way north. And that was the palace of the Seelie Queen herself. Could it be? Was my mysterious companion taking me right where I wanted to go?

The answer was yes. After only three more days, we reached a sight that had long been described to me by traveling peddlers come to our village to sell their goods. It was a beyond massive palace, carved entirely of white marble that was almost blinding in its beauty. There were turrets and towers and so much more that I could not name; and the entire palace was so large that it sprawled across several acres and stretched out of sight. It was surrounded on all sides by a menacing silver fence, which was manned at intervals by equally menacing knights in gleaming white armor. Oberon rode ahead towards them as if they were nothing; I followed meekly, and to my shock the knights stepped to the side. The intricate silver gates swung open, and the two of us dismounted. A servant rushed from out of nowhere to take our horses, and Oberon and I walked into the Queen's palace.

We entered into the famed Great Hall, where hundreds, it seemed, were gathered. In the very center rested a huge silver throne. Upon it sat a stunningly beautiful Sidhe woman. Upon her head rested a silver crown.

It was the Queen.

I was trembling with fear. In all my dreams I had never really pictured meeting the Queen in person, even though I had always desperately wanted to serve her. I was absolutely terrified. I was a mere village girl of no noble blood – what if she saw me and ordered me thrown from her presence? Shivers racked my spine. In front of me, Oberon bowed deeply, and following his lead, I curtsied as gracefully as I could.

The Queen looked at Oberon. "So," she said, "You've finally returned." She did not seem entirely displeased, and my fear abated somewhat. "Tell me, my consort, how was your period of meditation?"

Oberon said something in response, but I did not hear, for my mind was spinning in disbelief. The Queen's consort? I had been traveling with the Queen's _consort_? It wasn't entirely my fault that I hadn't realized – the ruler's consort was never anywhere near as famous as the actual ruler, and many times none but the ruler's own courtiers even knew the consort's name. Still. How could I have not guessed _somehow_?

I tore myself from my shocked reverie just soon enough to see the Queen transfer her gaze from Oberon to me. "And who is this?" she asked him.

"Her name is Titania, Majesty," he replied. "I discovered her lost on the roads. I was thinking perhaps you could give her a position in the palace?"

The Queen frowned. "I have enough maids. What do you want me to do with her?"

Oberon coughed. "With all due respect, Majesty, I was thinking perhaps a position in your own entourage?"

My eyes widened and my head jerked back. Was I about to achieve my heart's desire just like that? Did Oberon really have that much influence with the Queen?

Apparently so. The Queen nodded. "Yes, well, I did just lose Anastasia." Looking directly at me, she asked, "Do you have any particular skills, girl? Anything in your favor?"

I swallowed hard. "I-I've been told I am particularly adept in magic, Your Majesty."

She brightened up almost immediately. "Yes, that would be lovely! And you are quite the beauty. Yes, yes, I expect you'll do marvelously." With a wave of her hand, she summoned me over to her side. "Here, child. Come stand by me. I'll have Katrina show you to your quarters later."

Still shaking, I slowly moved past Oberon and towards the most powerful Seelie woman in all of Faerie. As I moved by him, I could've sworn Oberon gave me a grin of triumph.

And that really _was_ how I achieved my deepest dream.

Truth be told, it was a bit anticlimactic.


	3. Chapter 3

I spent the next decade working tirelessly for the Queen. After the surprise of having one so young join their ranks, the other ladies-in-waiting welcomed me into their ranks warmly. However, they did give me one warning.

"_Stay away from the Queen's consort. She won't be happy if you get too close . . . "_

I took that to heart and immediately vowed to avoid Oberon at all costs. However, it turned out to be unnecessary. Except for when the Queen formally held court, I rarely saw him on palace grounds. Most times I was with my fellow ladies, and we went for walks in the palace gardens or sat and embroidered in our shared chambers. The few times I did see Oberon, he was with other male courtiers, usually hunting or relaxing in the shade of the trees. And he was often away on long, mysterious journeys, where no one heard from him for weeks on end.

And so the years passed by with no worries. I quickly learned how to navigate the many intrigues of court, mostly thanks to the other ladies, all of whom saw me as a surrogate daughter or little sister that had to be protected at all costs. Thanks to them, I was never in any danger with the courtiers. No, my life at court was, for the most part, decent. Of course, it was by no means perfect. Now and then I would reflect on my old life as a village girl, and regret leaving behind my family as well as everything I had ever known – but I always brushed aside any lingering guilt, for I was content and happy and had risen further than anyone had ever thought I really would. Now and then I would think back and wonder about my parents and how they fared, and I would be saddened at the thought – but I was young and strong and wanted to live my own life, and so I brushed them aside as well. It was easy simply because I never saw them again. My last sight of my parents was right before I fled our village, and to this day that is still my last memory of them. It never failed to pain me, but I had made my own choice and what could I expect? Something else that bothered me was the Queen herself. She rarely gave a second thought to her ladies-in-waiting, and often treated us as if we were invisible; she did not even bother to give us her old dresses when she was done with them, instead ordering them burnt when they would have fit one of us marvelously. She ordered us to do menial tasks better suited for a scullery maid. She ordered me to use my skill at magic to entertain her, forcing me to suffer the humiliation of performing parlor tricks in front of the entire court. And when I or one of my fellow ladies displeased her, she would sometimes even throw us in the dungeons for a night or two. Ah, very well. I shall admit it. Life under the Queen's command was far less satisfactory than I had dreamed. However, she was still the Queen, and I would serve her as faithfully as I could.

When I was twenty-seven years old, troubles began to brew at court. The Seelie Queen was well liked and much admired, but she of course had plenty of enemies, the most prominent being her counterpart: Mab, the ancient Queen of the Unseelie. Mab had been the Dark Queen for longer than anyone could remember, and at her current age was so powerful that she could summon a blizzard with a single sigh; and such was her hatred of the Seelie that she had done so on more than one occasion. Where my Queen inspired admiration and respect, Mab inspired abject terror. That might have been a double-edged sword that could even have worked in my Queen's favor, were it not for the fact that Mab _was_ loved just as much as she was feared. Every last Unseelie would lay down their life for Mab, and that made her even more dangerous than she already was to my own Queen. At the moment, the peace treaty between the two Courts was shaky at best, for Mab claimed that the Seelie were murdering her most valued courtiers. It was not a far-fetched claim – assassinations were quite common. However, this time the Seelie Queen was not handling matters very diplomatically; this was partially due to the fact that Oberon, who was still her consort, had been away for a particularly long while and the Queen was allowing her displeasure to spill out onto her fellow ruler. After nearly half a year, we managed to reinstate the peace treaty, and the troubles ceased for the most part. But tension still ran rampant at court. Many believed that the Queen was slipping, that she had proved in her undiplomatic handling of affairs that she was unfit to be ruler of the Seelie much longer.

One evening, we got word at court that our Queen was in danger. At first we paid no heed to the desperate messenger, a young village boy who lived on the border of Seelie territory. After all, the Queen received death threats on a daily basis. However, the boy continued to beg Her Majesty to listen.

"It was the tall man, Majesty, the one with the long black hair and black horse. He was sitting in my father's inn with these men in shiny silver armor and they were talking, Majesty, talking treason! . . . The tall man, with the black hair and horse, he was saying how he had a plan to kill you!"

The Queen decided to humor the child. "All right, all right. Do you know this tall man's name?"

The boy looked up earnestly. "Oh yes, Majesty, I know it real well. The other men called him Oberon."

The court went still. Oberon? It couldn't be. Granted, none of us had seen him for months, but surely the Queen's consort – who was much adored by everyone at court – would never plot against the Queen! I was even more stunned than my fellow ladies-in-waiting. I barely knew Oberon, but what I did know of him I liked; he had been the one to give me my greatest desire. True, it was a desire gone terribly awry, and I had often wondered whether Oberon had deliberately meant to send me into a pit of despair . . . but still. I could not believe what I was hearing.

But apparently the Queen could. After a few moments of shocked silence, her eyes flashed dangerously. We all knew what would happen next.

"Soldiers! OUT! FIND HIM!"

As for the rest of us, we shivered in dread as the Queen stormed up and down the Great Hall, her rage exploding. When the soldiers finally returned, the Queen had destroyed most of her statues and had nearly cracked her own throne in two. She paused, snarling with fury, as the soldiers parted to reveal the chained Sidhe they had caught at her bidding.

Oberon looked up and – of all things – smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

The rest of that week passed in hushed silence. The Queen had locked herself in her room, apparently so enraged she could not face her subjects. As for me, I kept it in until I could no longer take it.

So nine days after Oberon's capture, I headed down to his cell in the dungeons. There were no guards stationed – the dungeon was so heavily warded with spells that it was utterly impossible to escape. I headed straight down till I found him.

For a long moment we looked at each other. Then Oberon barked out a laugh.

"Come to see the traitor, have you?"

I nodded. "Did-Did you truly do it? Plan to kill Her Majesty?"

He didn't deny it. "Of course. You're one of her ladies-in-waiting, you know how she is. She's a menace. A hateful excuse for a Queen. She needs to be killed, and I was more than willing to do it. I only wished I'd realized that sooner."

"But you're her consort!"

"And that matters because?"

I shook my head. "Look, I know she's a terrible Queen. But that doesn't mean you can _kill_ her."

"Doesn't it?"

I was silent. Deep down, I agreed with him. She needed killing, and badly.

He stood in his cell. "Look, you can help me, Titania. You're powerful. I've seen you. You've been training; you're twice as powerful as the other ladies combined!"

I couldn't disagree. I was exceptionally strong when it came to magic; even at less than thirty years old, I was more than capable of doing things it would take a five-hundred-year-old Fae to accomplish. And . . . the more I thought about it, the more I knew Oberon was right; and the more I wanted to help him. I made a split-second decision.

"What do you want me to do?"

He smiled. "I knew you'd do the right thing. Listen, Titania, I plan on being King of the Seelie. I'm just as powerful as _she_ is, and I know I'd be a far better ruler. But I don't want a series of consorts. I know better than anyone that you can't trust a consort." He laughed. "No, what I want is an equal. Someone I can _really_ trust. Titania, you're strong enough to be that person."

I was still. "Explain."

"Titania, I want you to get me out of here. I want you to help me kill this twisted excuse for a Queen that we have. I want you to help make me King. And then I want you to be my Queen."

I am sure that whoever is reading this right now is horrified. You may even suspect what I myself did – that eleven years ago, Oberon had only given me my position as lady to the Queen because he had been planning her murder even then. Deep in my heart, I knew that Oberon had only ever seen me as a tool to be polished and wielded to the maximum effect. But listen – I was unhappy with my position serving the Queen. And yes, the idea of such high status tempted me beyond compare. I had started off as a common village girl. The idea of becoming one of the most revered women in Faerie was impossible to give up; and so despite my misgivings I said yes. How could I not?

The day afterwards I entered the Queen's rooms, my heart pulsing wildly. "Majesty?" I called.

She didn't look up from her mirror. "What is it?"

Behind my back, I withdrew a gleaming knife from the folds of my skirt. An ordinary knife would have been hopeless against the Queen, but this dagger that Oberon had pressed into my hand before I left the dungeons had been brought back from the mortal world. It was made of pure iron.

Even just one blow would be fatal.

When I didn't answer, the Queen glanced up and frowned. "What . . ." She never got a chance to finish the question. In a fraction of a second the iron dagger flew from my hand and embedded itself in her chest. Her eyes widened for the briefest moment. Then her back arched and she fell. I had done my job to perfection.

The Queen was dead before she hit the ground.


	5. Chapter 5

So now you know how I came to be Queen of the Seelie. I will not go into detail about everything that Oberon and I did as rulers of the Bright Fae. After all, we ruled for centuries upon centuries. Even I don't remember everything now.

So I will tell you what I am sure you really want to know.

_What happened to Oberon?_

He is revered even today, long after his death. But no one knows for sure exactly how he died. No one, that is, but me.

Today I rule my people alone. A few consorts here and there, but I am the sole Queen. However, that has only been the case for a little over what, a hundred years? For a thousand years before that, Oberon and I ruled the Seelie together.

I will not deny that he was a good King. He was indeed one of the greatest Kings the Seelie have ever had. But he was not always true to his word. At least, not with me. So in the end, I killed him just as I had killed my predecessor. Don't act so shocked. I'm sure you've secretly guessed by now that I was the cause of my husband's death.

In the final chapter of my story, I shall tell all of Faerie how it came to be.

It will be short, I promise.

Let us begin with a mortal. I don't remember her name. I don't remember her face. I don't particularly want to, either. All I remember is that she was quite pretty, at least by mortal standards. She must have been exceptional, to have caught Oberon's eye.

It was on one of our travels to the mortal world. Disguised as a noble couple, we wandered through the streets of – France? Italy? I believe it was Italy. Rome, I think. Well, we walked through Rome. I remember marveling at the beauty of the city, wondering how could a mere human possibly have created any of this? Oberon was equally impressed, and we ended up staying in Rome for nearly a year. It was sheer bliss. I had not been so happy since the day I was formally crowned Queen of the Seelie.

On our last day in Rome, Oberon decided to walk by himself and take in all the sights for one last time before our departure. I presume it was then that he met her. She was a maid in a Roman tavern, if my memory has not failed me. Oberon decided to quench his thirst with some wine. He walked in through the doors. Saw _her_.

I think you can guess what happened next.

When I found out about her, I was furious. How dare he break his vows? He had made me his Queen, and in all the years we'd ruled side by side, _I_ had never strayed. _I_ had stayed true. He had no right to do any different.

But he did, of course, and ended up with a little something extra on the side. For one stormy night, the mortal girl somehow wandered, delirious, into Faerie. A concerned soldier saw her and brought her to the palace. The first thing she did when she stumbled into the Great Hall was collapse at Oberon's feet. A bundle fell from her arms and began to wail.

It was a baby.

Needless to say, I erupted with fury. I could have forgotten about the girl, but here she was with a child. _Oberon's_ child. It was unacceptable.

I don't even recall what I did, but when I came to my senses the girl was dead at my feet. I assume my husband wished to protect the baby, for by the time my rage had faded it was long gone. I never saw it again.

That was the very first of Oberon's misdemeanors.

It would not be his last.

I would have expected him to stick to his vows from that point on, for why should he want another mortal girl dead by his wife's hand in front of a hundred courtiers? However, he did exactly the opposite. Perhaps he couldn't help himself. Perhaps he enjoyed my anger. Either way, throughout the next seven hundred years Oberon's half-human children continued to surface. I believe I could have taken it in silence if they were ordinary children whom we in Faerie heard nothing of. Unfortunately, that was not the case. Oberon's children tended to be intelligent and famous and utterly despicable. Several of the mortal world's most famous figures were sired by my errant husband. And with each name I learned, my anger grew.

There was the sculptor, Michelangelo. He was Oberon's.

The one they call Leonardo da Vinci. Him, too.

What was her name? Eleanor? Ah, yes. Eleanor of Aquitaine. The one they say was the most beautiful woman in the world. She inherited Oberon's looks, that was certain.

Catherine de Medici. Now her, I respected. Hated, but respected.

The Borgias, Cesare and Lucrezia. Widely despised by mortals, but I swear to you, my hatred for them burns brighter than any mortal's.

Louis XVI, king of France. I had nothing but contempt for _him_.

Oh, and how could I forget? Jeanne d'Arc. Pity she had to burn. Clever girl, really.

Galileo.

Of course there was the worst of them all. _William Shakespeare_. Oberon actually had the nerve to bring him _into Faerie_. Into _my_ palace! I was _very_ satisfied when the smug little brat died.

And yes, most certainly Victoria. Queen of England. I really did respect _her_. Sixty years on any throne is no easy feat, and I of all people should know.

Oh, yes. These were all my husband's children. Many I couldn't stand. Some I genuinely liked. It didn't matter. With each birth, my rage towards Oberon increased. The last straw was during the mortal American Civil War. There was a famous nurse back then, a girl named Clara. She was revered by mortal soldiers everywhere, beloved of every man on the battlefield. When news of her reached Faerie, I turned at once to Oberon. I didn't even have to ask. He had guilt written all over him. The entire court could see it, and gleefully scandalized whispers burst out everywhere as I sat in stony silence.

I had had enough. I could not stand being humiliated by my husband's betrayal of me with so many mortal women. _It was too much_.

However, I knew that as long as Oberon still lived, he would continue to betray me. And so I realized that the only way to end this was by ending _him_.

That night I pulled out the iron dagger he had given me long, long ago. It had been rusting in a wooden drawer for a thousand years, but the blade was still sharp. It seemed fitting for him to die by its edge.

_Oh, sweet irony._

I waited until he fell asleep beside me. Carefully, I grasped the dagger in my hand and moved closer. I allowed myself a brief second of mourning. I _would_ miss him.

Then I leaned over and slit his throat.


End file.
